


Fighting Words

by DaisyIfYouHave



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 23:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19095214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyIfYouHave/pseuds/DaisyIfYouHave
Summary: This is just a soft gay drabble of memory I wrote from a follower's prompt.





	Fighting Words

When Touga had changed, he didn’t really know.

But he knew that he had once been an open and expressive boy, one who had held Saionji’s hand tenderly in his, bandaged it up when their bit of play-fighting went too far, when he’s hurt Saionji, even though he hadn’t meant to. Even though he hadn’t wanted to.

That day was still colored in pastels when he thoughts of it, not the harsh-framed memories of some parts of his youth, some of things that might have made him what he was, but simple and soft and bleeding into the edge of time.

Saionji was sitting under the tree, tightening the band of his kendo stick, as Touga played with the edge of his loose green curls. It was equal parts teasing and delight, the way they bounced in the wind, going this way and that, never predictable like the straightness of Touga’s, under its own master. He was not a child, and not a man, living in that liminal space where one became, where his mind and heart had started to open up, where he joyfully took Saionji’s hand, as they had as children, but it felt different now.

It was not a leading so much as a tethering, nothing so much as a desire for him to always stay close.

His father would be unimpressed, he knew, though he did not fully understand why, that he took a flower from the edge of the sun-dappled field and wove it through Saionji’s hair, the pink petals that would come to define so much of his life only friends now, twisting softly against the teal and brightening them both.

“Stop,” Saionji protested weakly, but he did not remove the flower, only sheepishly smiled, “I’ll get you for that.”

Touga laughed and jumped to his feet, grabbing his kendo stick and turning toward Saionji with a flourish. “Good luck! You’ll need it, Saionji!”

Saionji returned his laugh, and made sure of the band one last time before he scrambled to his feet. “Well come at me, then!”

Saionji was a better fighter than Touga, if it came to raw talent. His footwork was better, he had a keener eye, he was faster. But his grin when he fought Touga took over his whole face, and he could hardly see for smiling, and so more than once Touga had gotten the best of him.

The parried and swung and laughed, rubbing shoulder as shoulder as they tried to outpower the other, breaking away and laughing again, shouting taunts and encouragement in equal measure.

Then Touga had struck and Saionji drew his hand back, a welt already rising there, and clutched it to his chest.

Touga dropped his kendo stick and rushed to Saionji’s side, sputtering out the words.

“Are you okay? I didn’t–Oh Saionji, that looks like it hurts.” He fussed, gently taking Saionji’s hand from his chest and looking at it.

He jumped to his feet again, rushing back toward the bike they had taken to the field, and dug around in the lunch he’d packed for them both with such care in his over-large kitchen this morning.  There was a light pink napkin there, that would match the pink of the flower in Saionji’s hair, that would cover the painful welt Touga had made.

He came back to Saionji’s side, and Saionji delicately extended his hand to him.

“I would never mean to hurt you, Saionji,” he looked down sadly at his hand, wrapping it with utmost care, as if causing Saionji the slightest pain more would be impossible to bear, “Not ever.”

“I know,” Saionji said, and managed a brave smile, “I guess you win that one. But I’ll get you next time.”

Touga grinned and he tenderly tied the knot atop Saionji’s hand. “I bet you will!”

They looked at each other a moment, Touga still holding Saionji’s hand in both of his, their eyes meeting as the birds whistled on in the background, as the smell of the flowers played around them in the breeze.

It was Saionji who moved first, Touga would always remember. Saionji was faster, and had a keener eye, and better footwork. But Touga followed in the dance he had not known he knew so well, and they shared their first kiss there, the sun poking through the leaves of the trees and dotting them with brightness, like little stars telling out their futures.

He thought of that now, as he watched Saionji from above, the filtering light of the trees making him look oh so young again.

One time he had hurt Saionji, even though he hadn’t meant to. Even though he hadn’t wanted to.


End file.
